Same Mistake
by SuprSingr
Summary: Helga comes back to Hillwood after being away for six years and can't help but think back on why she left. Rated T for some swearing.


**A/N:** *On knees begging to the Heavens that I'll be able to actually FINISH something for once*

YES, that's right, this is like my... forth or something attempt to start a story and FINISH it. O_O I've literally had quite a few FANTASTIC (if I do say so myself *Pops collar and sucks on lolly-pop with sun glasses*) story ideas in the last few weeks that I have NOT been able to force myself to finish. :(

But hopefully-FREAKING HOPEFULLY IF THE LORD WILL GRANT ME THE STRENGTH-I'll be able to finish this little baby up and post it... and if you're reading this... YES, HOLY FREAKING FLYING UNICORN CRAP FROM OUTER SPACE, YEEEEES! I POSTED AGAIN FINALLY IN FOR-FREAKING-EVER! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! *Fist pump to end ALL fist pumps*

Mwahaha, be jealous, my sexy, sexy readers... I don't know why you would be, but be anyway. xD And yes, you are all now sexy. You totally did a double take when you read that, didn't you? XD Don't worry, you're all still lovely and beloved, too. :3 I LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH! *Bawls emotionally*

BUT anywho, not sure what I'm gonna be writing here exactly... Don't really have any ideas, pretty much just winging it here... It's probably utter crap, but... at this point, to be honest, I REALLY don't give a care. I'm going to be writing a lot of random One-Shots for a while here, just to try and get back into the groove of things around here. I've had a TERRIBLE last couple months with all the computer's breaking down and losing all my stories and whatnot and I think it's really rattled my Writer Gears (they exist), but it's all good, brah. It's all good in the 'hood. *Hippy colors suddenly appear all around with random jazz music* ...Don't ask me, not even I know. Maybe you should lay off the drugs. But I _finally_ posted again, so shut up and be happy! OR ELSE... *Raises scythe and glares at you hard* That's right, move it along, move it along...

**Disclaimer:** That's right, everybody, I'm gonna do it... I'm going to say what we've ALL been wanting to hear for what feels like CENTURIES now... I have a confession to make: I am Craig Bartlett, and I own this show! I've been using a stupid sixteen-year-old chick as my cover to continue to spread my genius to you all on Fanfiction! ;D But I got the rights to my show back now so I don't have to pretend anymore! TJM is set to air in just a few months! ^_^ ..._Pffft_, man, I _wish_. :'( Wouldn't that be epic? *Sniffles* But no, no, I'm not Craigy-poo, and I don't own anything but my underpants… :(

**Quick Warning: **This _does_ contain _some_ cursing in it. Barely any, just a few words, but that's it. I'd just like to put it out there that I myself don't curse _ever _(unless I'm flaming mad or just not thinking). But I tried writing it out with the usual cursing replacements (dang, darn, etc.), but it just didn't sound right for a grown up Helga to talk like that when she's being open and just talking normally. It nagged at me, so I changed it. *Shrugs* It's really no big deal, but ehhh, it's just something I wanted to put here for my own peace of mind. xD Do forgive my stupidity, it can't be helped, lol. Now let us CARRY ON! *Draws sword and points ahead*

**Same Mistake**

**One-Shot**

You know, there have been a lot of instances where I've found myself wandering through this old park. I'll pass by the swing sets I used to play on as a tot, the tree I used to sit under all day just watching over all the other happy kids bitterly, the bench an old friend of mine got dumped on, the lake they had that old toy boat competition on, and then of course this old bridge... I don't know why, but I really love this old bridge. How many times had I found myself on this thing, just staring down at myself in the lake below? Every care in the world, even if I tried to hide it from everyone else, even myself sometimes. It was where I'd always come to whenever I was sad... I don't really know why, it kinda just happened, I guess. Depression always led me to taking a walk, which always seemed to lead me to this park, and then inevitably to this old bridge... Maybe it was because I could always stare down at myself, straight into my own eyes, eyes that held great depths of secrets that even I myself couldn't come to fully comprehend... That's right, not even _I_ understood myself most days back then... I still don't a lot of the time, truth be told.

So why now? Eight years later?

The wood is worn under my hands, and I'm likely to get a splinter, but I really couldn't care less at this point. I'm not sure I ever would have cared, actually, at ANY point in my life. Maybe it's just because I trust this bridge. I know that probably sounds stupid to say that you trust an inanimate object, but... Well, since when do I care if something sounds stupid? My entire life is stupid.

I grip the edge of the bridge tightly, feeling the roughness under my hands, and my head flirts back and forth a bit with the idea of looking over the edge. It's been so long since I've seen my reflection in these waters. I mean, I've seen my reflection millions of times now—heck, I saw it just this morning—but there's something about seeing myself in THIS river... Something different. It's like I can _really_ see myself. Not just my dull, frizzy blonde hair pulled sloppily back in a ponytail, or my pale, plain blue eyes, or my patchy, ghostly white complexion, but something... something beyond the surface... Like behind all my ruses, lies, fake confidence, and this identity crisis I've been having my whole life it seems. It all just melts away and all I can see is… me. Just me. I can see all my fear, my sorrow, how truly vulnerable and weak I am when it comes down to it—it's kinda scary, but also a huge relief every time I see it. It reminds me that I'm human, that I'm alive. It just seems like… I go throughout my day every day, and it's all just an act. You have to act polite to some people, smile when you're expected to, you stumble over words or yell at people when you don't know how else to react—but it's all just an act. Sometimes I feel like all growing up is is learning how to act in public, but when you think about it, there is no real acceptable way to act in public. You kind of just… exist, and try not to draw attention to yourself. It's like you're a ghost and you can't break out of it, and at the end of the day you can't help but feel like you didn't actually live. You look in that mirror hanging on your wall at yourself and your blank expression, and you don't see yourself—you just see another random person. And you don't even really care when you see yourself like that, you just feel numb, like you always have… I don't know, maybe I've just been lonely the past while or maybe a little depressed with my life lately (or maybe I'm just the same old basket case I've always been), but it's different here, now. I know that when I look over that edge, I'll be able to see myself again, and everything I've been avoiding… It's all in my head, I know, but this IS the town I grew up in... It's just a bridge, just a stupid river, but I haven't been back here in years, and finding myself again in this spot after all this time feels kinda spooky now... Like I'm revisiting my childhood. It feels almost haunting... Heck, strike that, it IS haunting. I mean, criminy…

I've been away at college for some time now, but even before that I'd switched high schools just before senior year. I'd... heard things, things that at the time I just didn't want to deal with, so I left. Simple as that. Went to move in with Olga up north for a little while so I could finish up school before I shipped myself off to college. Some lame-o la-dee-da school Olga wouldn't shut up about. I was accepted, and I'd had just about enough of Olga's cheery disposition every morning (in case it's not obvious, I'm really not a morning person), so I got out of there FAST. I majored in writing, top of my class. Olga wouldn't shut up about that for months when I got back. I've even got my first book started now, but who can get any work done with all of Olga's yammering? I got tired of it all and decided it was time for a little homecoming. I've been back a few days so far, and Bob and Miriam-... Mom and Dad have been surprisingly hospitable. It's just 'til I can afford to get my own apartment, but it's been... sorta nice.

I know as a kid I complained a lot about them, and don't get me wrong—they suck. But they _did_ try. I couldn't exactly blame them for being themselves, and Miriam being a lump and Bob being a blowhard workaholic was the only way they knew how to be. Heck, even when Olga was a kid they were that way, maybe even worse. Olga told me while I was up with her that that was why she was always so annoyingly academic. As a kid, they were neglectful, but Olga was a needy kid—so she found a way to get them to pay attention. She'd always been a smart kid, and she figured out real quick that good grades got her attention. So she became _the_ smartest kid in her class (heck, let's face it, the whole stinking _school_), received amazing test scores, won awards, trophies, and all of a sudden Bob and Miriam were paying her a _ton_ more attention. That was why she was always flaunting her smarts around and being such a bragger, because it got her attention. She _needed_ attention, and she'd gotten it into her head at an early age that if she was intelligent, people would "like" her. I guess it seemed like a good system to her at the time, to dedicate so much of her life to pleasing our parents, just to keep the attention.

But of course, that's never been _my_ style. Instead growing up I chose bitterness, rage, and rebellion. I didn't like that they were neglectful, but I figured I couldn't do anything about it, so I just did my best to detach myself from them. To stop caring. Either that or I'd just scream at them a lot. But that IS something Olga and I have in common—we both have a great need for… well, love. And I didn't get a lot of that as a kid, mainly by my own choice, though. I was kinda self-destructive back then. I pushed away the very thing I craved the most, just because I was too prideful to admit I needed it. They tried to change for me a few times back then, though, and it was great for a while, but at the end of the day they were always going to have to just go back to being who they were. That fact only made me feel more bitter at the time, but in a way, I knew that it would happen. The fact that they even _tried_ proved that they really cared about me, though. And not the fake, artificial love Olga had managed to conger up between them, _us_, but _actual_ caring. Not that they don't care about Olga the same way they do me, but all that excitement they've always held for when she comes over, that look in their eyes when they look at all her trophies and eat her oh so delectable food? That's not love. I yelled at them all the time, was always chillingly cold towards them, but they still tried. That proved it. I guess we've always just been a "tough love" kind of family, and let's face it, Olga's mushy, gooey, idealized "family togetherness" crap has never really been our style. They've always loved me, and I've always loved them, even if I hate them sometimes. We may not be the best of families, but at least we tried, and I guess that's what counts in the end. Being back home after all this time away has really made me think about a lot of things, about my family... about my past...

So why did I leave you may ask? Well, it's really none of your business, but I guess I'll tell you anyway.

It was the summer of senior year... We were all out, being idiots, as usual. Rhonda and Curly were sucking face on her car, and Harold was nearly crushing MY car under his ridiculous girth with a beer in each hand and an idiotic look on his face, Stinky and Sid by his side as always, both with equal looks of stupidity. Gerald and Phoebe were over by me, leaning against the building we were all parked by. The conversation was pretty typical, summer plans and all that crap. We were out celebrating being one year closer to getting out of our rat-hole of a high school, but not much had really changed still. We were all still the same people, just a little older. Gerald and Phoebe had gone into some mindless banter so I was just looking down into my beer bottle, sloshing it's contents around inside and staring blindly, when Gerald nudged my shoulder. When I looked up, I didn't like the look on his face. There was something guilty and worried there, like he had something he had to tell me that he wasn't sure how I was going to take. This was pretty typical for us, too. I think Gerald was still afraid I was going to randomly start snapping on him again like I did back in the fourth grade. Even though there was no reason for me to do that anymore, and we'd been sorta-friends for years now. Nonetheless, I still didn't like the look on his face. But I just grunted and asked him what the bad news was _this time_. I'd expected something dumb, as I'd always expected from him. Well, heck, what I'd always expected from _men_ in general.

I can't remember his exact words, even though it really wasn't all that long ago. Just a few years or so. Perhaps the problem is that I simply don't _want_ to remember, but it's okay. I can still remember the basic idea of what he'd told me. And it was _much worse_ than anything I'd anticipated.

_He_ was coming back.

It hit me harder than I thought it would. I'd daydreamed of when that day would come too many times to count, but I guess truthfully I never actually thought it would come. It shocked me to the core and left me feeling pretty… I don't know. I can't explain it. But whatever the feeling, it was bad enough to get me to hop on the next flight out of there and switch high schools. Kinda a stupid and over-dramatic reaction, I know, but I've always been willing to go to great lengths over people, whether it be positive or negative… Or at least, _one_ people. And it all happened so fast… I was freaking out, Olga had called, one thing led to another, and the next thing I knew I was booking it. I didn't even have time to tell anyone I was leaving… and at the time, that was just the way I wanted it. I didn't _want_ anyone to know I'd left or where I'd gone, lest they tell… others. I just wanted to get out of there, and fast. Once I was at Olga's I'd checked my phone for messages and found about fifty from Phoebe. I couldn't just leave her alone like that or have her find out from _Big Bob_ or anything, so I called her back and explained it all. Needless to say, she was speechless, and I _begged_ her not to tell anyone else. I told her to make something up, be creative, tell them I skipped a grade and was already on my way to college, that I'd found out I had a long-lost twin and just _had_ to go to her, that I had a sick relative in Afpakastan that I had to go and take care of—ANYTHING! I don't know how I did it, but I got her to agree. And, well, the rest is history…

But seriously, that was years ago. It doesn't matter anymore.

I feel a sigh escape my cold lips as I finally just lean down against the railing, my head propped up by a hand as I stare forward out over the lake. This stupid town's always been so beautiful, even in it's uglier moments. How the trees reflect over the water is so simple yet amazing, and I don't think I've ever seen the water so calm… This entire day's been calm. Waking up was calm, getting dressed was calm, breakfast was calm… This entire day so far has been bland and gray, filled with long, annoying thought processes for me. I haven't been able to stop thinking since I've gotten back, which has been unusual. For the past while now it's been astoundingly easy to turn off my brain. Guess it's just the atmosphere. The world seems so empty that I feel like I need to fill it with thoughts. It's been uncomfortably nostalgic all day. For the first couple days I've been here I mainly just stayed inside the house, caught up with my folks. Truth be told, I've been kinda afraid to go out. I don't know who still lives here. Is it possible I'd run into Pheebs here?

My head droops a little extra in my hand and I unleash another tired breath

I'm avoiding things again, I know. I'm not afraid of running into Phoebe, I'm afraid of running into… _him_.

I shut my eyes in pain.

Criminy, I hate him. It's hard for me to think about him, but I know in the state I've been in all morning I won't be able to avoid it.

I don't have any idea if he's still here, or if he even made it over for his senior year at Hillwood High or not. I don't know if he went to college, or if he did, where he went. I don't know what he's been up to for all these years. I have no idea if he's even the same _person_. I haven't talked to or seen the guy since the beginning of sixth grade, back when we were all just a bunch of stupid eleven-year-olds. I'm twenty-four now, that was _eons_ ago. And it was all so silly…

I remember those days, being so obsessively in love. When I literally couldn't go a day without seeing his face. When he was the only happy spot in my life… I let him control so many variables of my life. I'm not proud of it, but hey, I was just a dumb kid in love at the time. I couldn't have known any better, and things always seemed so damned complicated back then. I didn't know how to function without him being there. In a lot of ways, a lot of the more obsessive components to my love for him were just me coping with my home life and depression, but I _did_ genuinely love him. I was just in love with love, too.

I must've looked like a complete nutcase when I threw myself at him on that building. Weirdly enough, I smile and even chuckle a little at the thought. It just seems so long ago… After I told him, I remember we kinda just pretended it never happened. That is until San Lorenzo came up… I helped him find his parents, in my "special" way of course (that means I was a jerk most of the way, doi), and, well… Honestly, to this day I'm not sure what came over him. I can't quite pinpoint when it started, but he started giving me these funny looks; standing oddly close to me; clearing his throat every time we ended up alone together. Just… weird. And by the end of our trip, after we found his parents (I knew we would), he pulled me aside just so he could stutter for five minutes straight about who-the-heck-knows-what (have you ever talked to someone where they just keep re-starting the same sentence over and over and babbling but never seem to get to the point? Yeah… I hate that), until finally I yelled at him to shut up and just tell me whatever he was clearly so anxious to tell me. Next thing I knew I had his football headed lips wrapped around mine in a _very_ unrehearsed and sloppy kiss. You could tell it was his first, because he really wasn't very good at it, but I couldn't have possibly cared less at the time—it was the best kiss I'd ever received in my entire _life_.

Yeah, well, that one kiss may have been great, but it didn't amount to much. After we got home, I tried asking him what all that was about, but he kept avoiding me then. Any conversation I attempted with him always seemed to evolve into nothing but blushing and stutters. It's kinda obvious to me now that he had some kind of messed up crush on me, but I don't think he had the guts to actually act on it. Which I find strange, because he didn't ever have any trouble acting on any of his _other_ crushes. What made me so different? Plus, at one point, he _did_ act on it. He kissed me, that much I knew. But when it came to backing up his bold actions with words, he failed. Big time. Needless to say, it made me sad, and after a while, I figured all this back and forth was just his way of saying, "It was heat of the moment!" again. So I left him alone.

Of course, that didn't stop him from bugging _me_.

Even after I left him alone, he still acted funny around me. He breathed oddly, and stared with strange expressions, and at the time, it kinda weirded me out. I thought he was thinking I was a freak or something, but I didn't know why. I hadn't really done anything too major since my big "rooftop lunatic" debut. And I still didn't know why he'd kissed me. I felt like he was playing with my feelings, and I didn't like it. I went back to lashing out at him, but suddenly it was _easy_ for him to lash back at _me_. He talked back all the time and would just shake his head at my threats, not to mention he started collecting my spitballs and flinging 'em back at me when the teacher wasn't looking. I swear, he just took _all the fun_ out of torturing him. And on top of it, he kept giving me those stupid grins! Ugh, even now it infuriates me.

Geez, I'm stupid. I'm letting stuff that happened over thirteen years ago get to me. This is ridiculous.

I inhale the deepest breath I can get from the park's air and open my eyes, adjusting my head a bit more comfortably in my hand and un-narrowing my brow.

I know he must have liked me, "liked me liked me," or whatever other messed up elementary school lingo way you want to put it. He had a crush on me. One that he only acted on once and then… and then… I don't know. I don't know what happened. It was so out of the blue, but… whatever it was, it was brief. Just like all his other crushes. Very brief. Or maybe it hadn't happened at all and I was just imagining it, or overanalyzing the stuff he did. It is very likely that he was just freaked out by me, and disgusted that he'd kissed me in the first place. Maybe it was all just jungle fever or the heat or something... I don't know, but there is one thing I know for sure. He'd made it very clear for me back then, after all…

I shut my eyes even tighter than before as I remember…

"_Hey… Helga?" I heard a quiet voice sound hesitantly behind me._

_I blinked a second, before growling and giving the Snack-Man game I was playing a hard kick to freeze the game up. Why these stupid machines didn't just have a pause button was beyond me, but I really didn't care as I whirled around and tapped my foot testily and glared at the boy. "What?" I hissed. "You almost made me lose my game!"_

_He didn't look very sorry over my almost losing the game, though, although he did look a little guilty over something. Instead of responding to my yells, he just reached out and gently took my hand, asking me to come with him somewhere to talk. Normally I would have thrown his hand off me, yelled at him never to touch me again, and asked him why and where he wanted to take me. But there was something different about the look on his face this time, something that told me whatever it was he wanted to say, it was important. It took me a few moments, but I ended up nodding and silently walking with him out of the arcade. _

_We found ourselves taking a seat under a tree in the park nearby. It was very shady, and kinda cut off from the rest of the park, so we were alone. I wasn't sure if I liked that or not. The weird way he'd been acting coupled with that ominous look on his face left me with a serious pit in my stomach. _

_Finally, after a couple minutes of him just taking strange deep breaths and still holding my hand, he turned to me and opened his mouth to speak. After realizing he was still holding my hand, though, he let go quick and looked away. I just raised an eyebrow at him and asked him what was up. _

_I'll never forget what he said._

"_Helga… I know this is kinda out of the blue, but I wanted to let you know in private... That, well..." He pulled at his collar a little, looking down. "I'm moving. With my parents. They're tired of Hillwood, and they want to go off and see the world. They'd always wanted to, but when I was a baby, they couldn't really go on any big trips. But I'm old enough now that they think it would be a good experience for me."_

_My heart shattered._

_But we were supposed to see the world together._

_His next words, though, left me colder than I ever thought possible._

"_And, Helga, well…" He took my hand in his and looked at me oddly again, something very sad and guilty shining in his eyes. "I know you… like me, and I… I can't… I don't… It's only fair that I let you know..." He'd looked away then and squeezed my hand extra tight. His words struck me like lightning and rang louder in my ears than thunder. "I don't love you, okay? You should move on… You've been, um, infatuated with me long enough. You're a great girl and all, but you're just not the girl for me, you know? But that doesn't mean you aren't for some other guy... And I'm really not all that great myself. I'm just a regular guy." He shrugged his shoulders. "I'm sure you'll find someone someday... but it's not going to be me."_

_I was left speechless. Absolutely speechless, and without a breath left in my lungs. He'd leaned over and kissed my cheek very softly then, but what would normally fill me with warmth and happiness felt like the kiss of death._

_He'd tried to console me, to explain more, but I didn't hear any of it, and I walked away from that conversation in a wide-eyed daze. The rest of the memory is but a fog..._

As I open my eyes again after thinking back on the worst day of my entire life, I'm shocked to feel that my eyes are a little watery. I wipe them quick and stare down at the glistening wetness on my fingers. Unbelievable. I'm supposed to be over him by now… I was supposed to be over him in _High School_. _Long _over him. But I guess I'm still a little too sensitive to be opening old wounds. It's been a while since I've thought about all this. I don't understand why I'm not… COMPLETELY over it. He made it very clear he didn't love me and wasn't ever going to. Probably already married to some beautiful, perfect chick right now, maybe even with a kid on the way. Heck, I bet they're kissing and feeling each other up right now. Meanwhile I'm standing on a stupid bridge scared to look over the edge and thinking about a bunch of crap that happened _years_ ago and getting all emotional, with a half-finished crummy romance novel waiting for me at home.

I wipe my tears off on my shirt quick and growl slightly, deciding I was done being an idiot and looking over the edge.

And there was my reflection in the water, plain as day. Nothing special. I knew it was all in my head, like looking over into the water after all this time would just magically show me my true colors—

It started pouring.

My reflection was instantly blown up by a hundred little water grenades, and I became almost immediately soaked to the bone.

A few moments pass as my brain processes all this…

Then I throw myself away from the railing and throw my arms up in the air, yelling angrily in a tone thick with sarcasm and vigor, "OF COURSE! It so figures! Why wouldn't it start raining on me right at this very moment! PERFECT TIMING, GOD! REAL HILARIOUS!" I drop my arms down then stiffly at my sides and huff out a large breath, ignoring the chills starting to run through my body at the cold rain.

Suddenly, though, something warm and dry is draped over my shoulders by large hands that I only just catch sight of out of the corner of my eye. I gasp and spin around, and my already partly dropped jaw falls completely open.

Oh holy shit.

Now this just wasn't fair…

He was _gorgeous_. His dark blonde hair was a bit damp and some hanging down into his face but it was obvious it was still the same old wild hair he'd always had, his wide jellybean green eyes looked kinder and warmer than ever, and his complexion had a healthy, attractive sort of light tan to it. He looked pretty lean with strong shoulders and—holy crap, was he _taller_ than me? He didn't seem _much_ taller, but he was at the very least my height now, and I was pretty tall. Oh, yes, puberty was _very_ kind to him… This couldn't be fair. It wasn't. There he was, a god, while I was there with my sloppy ponytail and absolutely no make up on. And meanwhile where the heck did he come from? AND WHY WAS HE SUCH A BEAUTIFUL MAN?

I don't know how long I stared at him, with my mouth wide open and probably with a little drool collecting I imagine, but he cleared his throat slightly and tried to smile. Oh, criminy, even the slightest smile out of him was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. This had to be the cruelest turn of events fate had ever put me through to date. Why couldn't he have been ugly? The idea was preposterous, but… but… come on, there had to be SOME way it could happen!

"Hey, Helga. Sorry for startling you like that, but, um… I couldn't help but notice you were in town." He widened his smile a tiny bit. "I mean, I saw you at the store yesterday… I didn't know how to confront you then, but I was just taking a walk, and… You looked cold." He coughed a little. "I-I know it's not an umbrella, but I hope my jacket's okay… It's, uh, been a while, huh?" His already slightly awkward smile turned even more so and he stood up a bit straighter.

I just stared at him, unable to comprehend how his voice got to be so sexy. All I could manage in response was a weak nod, still gawking.

He suddenly looked a little uncomfortable and he shifted a little. "Yeah… Uh-Uh, you look great!" He grinned, nearly killing me. "Beautiful. You, uh… really grew up." His eyes moved down my body, and I shook a little, disbelieving this was happening. Why was he torturing me? He breaks my heart, tells me he's leaving, and then thirteen years later appears out of thin air, tells me I'm beautiful and _checks me out_ of all things? His eyes snap up then suddenly and he puts a fist to his mouth, clearing his throat a little and his eyes not meeting mine. "Um, so… heh, been a while, yeah."

A big gush of rain suddenly slaps me in the face and I snap out of my trance. I act completely on impulse and shrug his jacket off onto the ground and turn on my heel and walk away, muttering weakly, "Not long enough, Football Head…"

Next thing I know, though, I'm being spun around and am assaulted once more with Arnold's large emerald eyes, only much closer this time. I keep my expression blank, but I know my eyes have grown a bit large again at being grabbed out of nowhere like that. He looks alarmed. "Where are you going?"

I roll my eyes. "Well, I _believe_ I was walking away. I don't know why you tagged me down in the first place. I mean, I haven't seen you in over ten years, and our parting wasn't exactly _pleasant_ in case you've forgotten." I scowl.

His eyes widen and he suddenly goes stiff, though he doesn't let go of my arms. His staring at me so closely is _really_ making me uncomfortable. I wiggle a little in his grasp, and he lets go suddenly. He looks… guilty. Oh, criminy, not that again. This is all too weird for me right now. I just nod my head in satisfaction at his actions and prepare to turn around again.

But what he says stops me in my tracks.

"Helga, I lied."

I stand there a second, then turn back to him, blinking. What the heck was he talking about? "What the heck are you talking about?"

Arnold looked down, his hands shoving themselves into his pockets. He didn't respond for a while, and right when I was about to yell at him to spit it out, he looked back up at me sadly and said, "Why did you leave?"

Well, that was completely off subject. I narrow my eyes at him and say, "You know why I left. I had Phoebe explain it to everyone."

He sighed. "Helga, you just conveniently decided you should get to know your sister better and have a change of scenery _right_ before I came home?"

Damn, leave it to Phoebe to come up with the most straightforward excuse for leaving as possible. I'd have come up with something a little more juicy. Nonetheless, I respond, "Yeah, so?"

"I don't believe that for a second, Helga. You've always hated your sister."

"Things change, _Arnold_. And since you're apparently a liar yourself I don't think you have any room to talk."

He stiffened again. "I…"

"What did you lie about?" I cut to the chase, tired of his sudden accusations. Phoebe's excuse for me wasn't even really a _lie_, truth be told. I did leave so I wouldn't have to deal with Arnold, but what started my sudden impulsive decision to leave was Olga raving about how I should visit over the summer so we could get to know each other better and catch up, since we hadn't seen each other in so long. I did her one better and asked to move in. Since Olga lived alone, needless to say, she was ecstatic at the idea. The last thing I needed right now was Arnold making statements about himself that made _no_ sense and then suddenly accusing me of being a liar too, on top of it.

When he doesn't respond for a while again, I shake my head and sigh, my expression going blank. "You know what? Never mind. It doesn't matter. I'm gonna head home, okay? Maybe I'll see you around. But let me make one thing clear: we're not friends. You should understand why." I frown a little and turn around for the third time. I know this is for the best. I can't talk to him anymore. He made it clear he didn't love me before, and just seeing his face sparked every emotion in the world in me. If I spend any more time with him, there's no telling what'll happen, and I just can't take another heartbreak from him. I can't. It was the entire reason I left Hillwood in the first place, and I'm not going to let him play mind games with me.

I get a few steps away until I'm suddenly spun around again. Just before I'm able to yell at him to stop that, he grabs my face and kisses me.

My entire brain shuts off, the words die in my mouth and are replaced with his tongue suddenly making it's presence known, and I stand limply, just letting him finish… whatever this is. I don't think I could have reacted even if I wanted to anyway. Since when was Arnold spontaneous? Where was this coming from? Was this just another sick joke of his? And damn it, _why_ did he have to be such a good kisser? Where did he learn this? Jealousy suddenly rises in my stomach, and I push it down out of frustration, squeezing my eyes shut. Oh, my morning had started out so normal and calm, all these old emotions suddenly coming back out of nowhere was really starting to exhaust me. The idea of pushing him away and slapping him flittered through my mind, but… Well, honestly, when was something like this going to happen again?

He kisses me a little more vigorously for… Criminy, how was I supposed to know how long? Seasons could've passed and I wouldn't have noticed. I don't know how long exactly, but he stopped eventually, though he didn't let go of my face and I could still feel the warmth of his breath spreading invitingly across my cheeks. I opened my eyes to see his were still closed and his face was still close to mine, and I gulped. Was he planning on kissing me again? No, no, _why_ did he kiss me in the first place? I wanted to ask, but my voice was long gone.

His eyes opened then and he stared back at me, his eyes soft despite the passion he had a moment ago. He spoke then, quietly, "That's what I lied about."

I blinked. Wha?

He blinked then himself, his eyes a bit wider, and corrected himself quickly, "I mean, I lied back _then_!" He gulped, looking like a nervous wreck all of a sudden, and he let go of my face to fiddle with his collar a little. I'd never seen him so uncomposed. I couldn't think of anything to say still, though. So I stood there and watched him fidget.

Finally, I managed to croak, "H-Huh?"

Yep, that's me—literate genius.

He stopped and took a quick breath in, then looked at me, then down. "Helga, I have a confession to make… Before I told you I was moving, I made a decision. A difficult one, and I don't usually like lying, but… I didn't want to do that to you. I did it to protect you. I'm sure you noticed my, um… feelings back then… and now." He glanced at me. "I regret never being able to tell you. But I'd never told a girl I loved them before. It was… harder than I thought it would be." He looked back down. "I've really missed you. It was hard to say I didn't love you back then, but I figured it was for the best. You'd get over me, and in time, I'd get over you. Or, well, that's what I thought anyway… I didn't expect to never be able to get over you." He coughed.

My voice came back to me at the speed of light then and I heard myself say, "Whoa, whoa, wait a minute… Are you saying that you love me?"

He stared at me a second, then gulped and confirmed, "Um, yes, Helga. I—"

"And you loved me back then? You just lied about it?" I interrupted.

"Yeah, Helga, I couldn't just say I love you then leave. It wouldn't have been fair to either of us. I figured it was best for us both to just move on, and I knew the only way to get you to was to make you think I was… well, a creep." He frowned. "But I didn't want to hurt you, I—"

"So I _didn't_ have to switch schools or hide away at Olga's or _anything_?"

His eyes widened and he pointed a finger at me. "So you DID leave because of me!"

My eyes narrow and I slap his hand away, continuing, "And this entire stupid thing was a lie! To think all this time I've been a zombie for nothing! Why the heck didn't you tell me? It would've been a heck of a lot easier to go through life knowing I at least had you for a _little while_ than thinking you hated me!"

"Oh, come on, Helga, I never hated you. And I didn't want to hurt you, I just wanted you to be able to be happy."

"You make me happy, though! You've always been the only thing on this entire stinking planet that made me happy!"

"But—"

"Why didn't you just tell me? You should've known by then that after seven years I wasn't going to get over you." I sniffled.

The concern in his brow increased and he grabbed my hand, frowning. "Please, Helga, I'm sorry. I knew I was going to be gone a long time, though. I knew it'd be hard for you, but I thought eventually you would be able to, and then you'd find someone better and could be happy. Someone that could admit to you they loved you." He looked guilty. "It felt like the best thing to do."

I growled a little, tears entering my eyes against my will. "Yeah, well, it's kinda difficult to get over true love!" I threw his hand off mine and crossed my arms tight. "Idiot…"

In response to my throwing his hand off, he grabbed me by my shoulders and tried to kiss me again. I turned my head away and pushed him away again, yelling, "And stop doing that! What's wrong with you?"

He stared at me wide-eyed. "I'm sorry. I just don't know what to say, and it's all I can think to do."

"How the heck do you _think_ when you clearly don't have a _brain_? And meanwhile, where did you learn to kiss like that anyway? You were horrible at it when we were kids!" I couldn't help that slipping out, and though I hated myself for it as soon as I heard my voice say it, I did want to know who I was going to have to kill.

His eyes widened even more then. "You thought I was horrible?"

Oh, for the love of—! "Shut up and answer the question, Football Head!"

He stared at me a moment, before his eyes went half-lidded and he smiled an odd smile. "You really haven't changed, have you?" Despite what I figured would normally sound like an insult to me, his eyes looked fondly at me. It was almost as if he _liked_ being called a football head. Before I could yell at him to answer me again, he said, "My best friend is Gerald, Helga, the self-proclaimed ladies man? He gave me tips, I guess, but a lot of that was just instinct. Why are you getting so upset?"

"I'm not jealous!" I blurted out randomly.

His eyes went wide again then… before he chuckled a little suddenly. "So that's why? You think I've been having mad make out sessions with other girls? Oh, Helga." He shook his head.

I huffed. I felt absolutely terrible. I had just found out my entire life was a big fat lie. I had tears building in my eyes, I was angrier than all heck, I felt betrayed and hurt, and now on top of it all I had Arnold laughing at me for being jealous, which really wasn't the most fun of emotions to be feeling at the moment either, by the way. Arnold came forward completely then and hugged me to him, smiling kindly and softly and… oh, holy shit. "Helga, there isn't anybody else, okay? And I'm sorry for lying to you back then. I shouldn't have. But we were just kids, and it was so long ago. Please try to understand what I'm saying _now_…" He kissed my cheek, and I quivered in his arms. The last time he'd kissed my cheek it had felt like the end of the world, but now… "I love you, Helga." He suddenly looked nervous again then, and his arms loosened around me. "Um… that is, if you still feel the same after all this…"

I stare at him long and hard for several seconds, watching every twitch on his face, and searching his eyes…

Then I said, "Doi."

And I kissed him.

**A/N:** Ahhhhh, I hate it. D; I suck epically—No, shut up, Me, you're bringing me down. }:( No, I have to say it, this is terrible. I speak the truth. D; No, no, no, shut up, Me! I don't need to hear this! D:{ But—JUST SHUT UP. D:{ I DON'T WANT TO. D; WELL, DO IT ANYWAY. }:[ AND WHAT IF I REFUSE? D: THEN I WILL KILL YOU UNTIL YOU DIE FROM IT. D:{ BUT THEN YOU'LL KILL YOU TOO. D: I DON'T CARE! I WILL KILL YOU AND IT WILL BE WORTH IT! D:{ _AHHHHHH_! D': …But okay, this kinda just hit me late one night after I watched a movie. I wasn't completely sure where I was going with it, although I pretty much had an outline made out in my head of the basic idea, but then I was just listening to some of my favorite James Blunt songs, and I came across, "Same Mistake," and one of the lyrics struck me as perfect for this story-"And my reflection troubles me, so here I go." But after I heard that lyric, the rest suddenly seemed perfect too, and it kinda became the feel I tried to capture for this story. :3 I know I did awful, but shut up. XD Here's the lyrics:

_So while turning in my sheets_

_And once again I cannot sleep_

_Walk out the door and up the street_

_Look at the stars beneath my feet_

_Remember rights that I did wrong_

_So here I go_

_Hello, hello_

_There is no place I cannot go_

_My mind is muddy but_

_My heart is heavy _

_Does it show?_

_I lose the track that loses me_

_So here I go_

_And so I sent some men to fight_

_And one came back at dead of night_

_Said he'd seen my enemy_

_Said he looked just like me_

_So I set out to cut myself_

_And here I go_

_I'm not calling for a second chance_

_I'm screaming at the top of my voice_

_Give me reason, but don't give me choice_

_'Cause I'll just make the same mistake again_

_And maybe someday we will meet_

_And maybe talk and not just speak_

_Don't buy the promises 'cause_

_There are no promises I keep_

_And my reflection troubles me_

_So here I go_

_I'm not calling for a second chance_

_I'm screaming at the top of my voice_

_Give me reason, but don't give me choice_

_'Cause I'll just make the same mistake_

_I'm not calling for a second chance_

_I'm screaming at the top of my voice_

_Give me reason, but don't give me choice_

_'Cause I'll just make the same mistake again_

_So while turning in my sheets_

_And once again I cannot sleep_

_Walk out the door and up the street_

_Look at the stars_

_Look at the stars fall down_

_And wonder where_

_Did I go wrong_

...Heck yes, I freaking love music. Isn't that just perfect? :') And geez, I enjoy writing. If only it wasn't so annoying. D; Other songs that contributed in the making of this fic include Maroon 5's "Runaway," "If I Never See Your Face Again," "Until You're Over Me," "Get Back in My Life," The Script's "Breakeven," and Paramore's "When it Rains." XD :D Been obsessed with those three bands lately. :3 And by lately, I mean forever. OMG MUSIC I LOVE YOU SO MUCH D; Well, I hope you enjoyed my random ficeroo, even if I hate it. XD I'll try to write more soon! :3

And please, PLEASE, do remember...

_**REEEEVVVVVIIIIIEEEEEEWWWWW!**_

*Bangs gong and rattles Earth*

o_o"


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